


Aftermath

by Graculus



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-10
Updated: 2011-03-10
Packaged: 2017-10-16 20:46:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/169167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graculus/pseuds/Graculus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is not what happened in 'Fire and Water', but it could have been...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath

He still heard the whispers as he wandered the endless corridors of the SGC, but by now Daniel had become so used to them he didn't even bother to turn his head and look for the source. He was accustomed to the looks as well - pity in the eyes of those who had sympathy for him and scorn on the faces of those who didn't.

It didn't matter. Nothing mattered any more. All that once mattered to him had died in flames only days before, screaming his name. Even the thought of it was enough to make his eyes prick with unshed tears.

Not here, Daniel told himself, as he bit back the rawness of the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. If he let them. At least the fact he could cry meant something, didn't it? Before that, in the immediate aftermath of leaving the planet he'd just felt numb. Felt nothing. Even as he'd gasped his first breath of sulfur-free air the other side of the wormhole, it had felt as though Daniel had left a significant part of himself behind on that planet.

With Jack, or whatever was left of him now.

His mind spun with unspoken thoughts, all the conversations he'd never have, all the things he wished unsaid. He'd wasted words when he could have said more important things - instead of talking about the past, about what they'd lost, he could have looked to the future. To a time when they'd rescued Sha're and Skaara, when the universe would be free of the Goa'uld. When they'd be explorers, setting out for the other side of the universe for the thrill of discovery, not for a desperate need to find allies and prevent their own inevitable destruction. A time when he could figure out just what it was he needed and wanted and where Jack O'Neill fit into those plans.

All those possibilities had perished in flames too. Everything that tied him to the SGC, all the victims of one misstep on a newly discovered planet, a monumental misjudgment on all their parts.

Sam and Teal'c had got him home, half-dragging him back to the Stargate when he'd frozen at the sight of his friend engulfed in flames. He could still hear Sam's disbelieving shout, feel the strength of Teal'c's grip holding him back even as he'd tried to struggle to where Jack was, even though Daniel had already known it was too late even then, too late for all of them.

Too late for him to drink beer on a lazy Sunday afternoon, his feet propped up on the railing of Jack's carefully made deck, ignoring the scowls that resulted. Too late for the jibes he'd quickly become accustomed to, seeing them for what they were, the overtures of friendship between two unlikely comrades in arms. Too late for anything more, for another soul who'd do whatever was necessary to help Daniel find his lost family, regardless of the cost.

He turned the corner then stopped in his tracks.

"Daniel?" Sam's worried voice, drawn face. "Janet sent me to look for you, you missed your appointment."

Damn. Was it really that time already? Daniel glanced at his watch, wondering where the day had gone and marveling at how long it was since he'd last slept. When he'd been a student there had been days when his fascination with the subject matter meant he'd tried to exist on caffeine alone and that particular part of his history seemed to be repeating itself.

"I'm fine," he said, recognizing the denial on Sam's face even as he said the words. He didn't blame her for not believing him; Daniel was sure he wouldn't have believed himself either. "Janet's worrying over nothing."

"And I've got a bridge you can buy," Sam replied, as she took a tentative step closer to where he stood. Once she hadn't been so wary, Daniel remembered - they'd known each other only a few months but their friendship had blossomed. Now she looked almost afraid of him, of how he'd respond to even a casual touch. "Please. You're not fine."

When he didn't react, Sam seemed to take that as tacit encouragement, reaching out and taking hold of his sleeve. She still had the same expression on her face, as if she expected Daniel to suddenly break free and run screaming down the corridor. He couldn't remember having that much energy - not recently, anyway.

"I'm fine," he repeated.

"No, Daniel, you're not." Sam's voice was quiet, reassuring in its calmness. "But you will be."

\-------------------

Waking up soaking wet and alone on a stone floor hadn't been the highlight of his week so far, but in hindsight Jack decided it was starting to look like one of his better days.

It had been a few hours before he'd discovered he wasn't really alone, the only other occupant of wherever-the-hell-they-were turning out to be a scaly alien with an attitude to match his own. And his attitude left a lot to be desired right now.

He couldn't help wondering about the rest of his team, and Scaly wasn't being much help with that. All he did was glare at him, or swing those big-ass claws around like he was lecturing and needed the talons to make his point. Not that Jack had any idea what the subject of the lecture was - if Scaly wanted information of some kind, he wasn't sure what it was he wanted to know, even if Jack was inclined to tell him.

The first time he'd woken up strapped to the table hadn't been all that much of a surprise either. Jack hadn't noticed anything strange in the food he'd been left, though the taste and texture of it wasn't all he could wish for. But he'd slept deeper than usual and woken up strapped down.

And that was when the fun really started.

There'd been times when the memories of those weeks in Iraq had made him wake in a sweat, checking the room to make sure he wasn't back there. That was turning out to be a walk in the park compared to this - Scaly had some nifty alien gadgets designed to inspect the inside of his head from the outside and didn't seem at all afraid to use them.

And what the hell was this 'Omorroca' anyway?

\-------------------

"No."

"Dr. Jackson," Hammond began, straightening up a little in his chair as if pulling additional authority from somewhere else. He was in his usual seat at the head of the briefing room table, with Daniel sitting on one side of him, Sam sitting opposite.

"No. I won't do it."

He probably sounded crazy. It had taken what seemed like forever before Daniel had been able to persuade Janet to let him leave the infirmary and he could still feel her gaze heavy on him as the doors had swung closed behind his grateful exit.

"The colonel would have wanted you to," Sam said, interjecting. Daniel turned to her, anger flooding his system at her temerity. She paled a little as their eyes met and then looked down, at the surface of the table. How dare she? How dare _either_ of them say what Jack would have wanted? How dare they want him to do this? "You know he would have."

Daniel closed his eyes, just the thought of a memorial service enough to drain away the anger he'd felt only moments before. Kawalsky's service was fresh in his mind, the serried ranks of dress blues, somber faces as the last post had been played. He couldn't do this for Jack, no matter what - he couldn't stand there and tell them about Jack. That was private, personal, not a matter to be shared with people whose only contact with Jack O'Neill had been passing him in the SGC hallway.

He couldn't tell them what they wanted to know. He didn't know what they wanted to hear, what the acceptable truth was about someone he'd come to consider his closest friend. That was more than Daniel was able to give them, even if they were probably right.

"I'm sorry, general," he said. "My decision is final."

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Dr. Jackson." Hammond's voice was full of empathy - in the aftermath of anger, Daniel recognized the kindness of long experience. "But if you change your mind..."

"I won't," Daniel said, quickly. He knew it for the truth the moment the words were spoken. If he had his way, if it wouldn't have upset the others more than he cared to and had done already, he might not even have agreed to attend the memorial service itself. But Sam and Teal'c deserved better than to face this alone.

He was out of his chair and halfway to the door even before he'd been dismissed.

\----------------

Jack had chosen to cooperate, after a fashion, though he was always looking for a way out, an opportunity he could make the most of, but Scaly never let his guard down. He seemed pleased with whatever it was he'd picked out of Jack's skull, or at least the brain-picking had stopped for a while and that was the only reason Jack could think of for that to be the case. The only good reason, anyway.

If he got out of here, Jack told himself, he'd never make fun of new recruits ever again. He hadn't felt this washed-out since he was a recruit himself, the limp dishrag feeling of his muscles one he'd tried hard to forget. It was another feeling that linked him back to Iraq and months of painful physical therapy as he tried to get muscle tone back. What he wouldn't give for a nice shiny sarcophagus any time now.

Scaly turned from his contemplation of the wall as if drawn by that thought, eyes sharp as ever.

Jack was getting a bit tired of feeling like a bug on a pin, but he didn't seem to have much choice in the matter. The straps holding him down meant he wasn't going anywhere any time soon. Those claws were getting a workout again too, one long arm swinging towards a particular symbol on the wall, one that looked horribly familiar when Jack turned his head a little and squinted at it.

"You have got to be kidding me."

He talked a lot after that, wanting to say all the things that Scaly might otherwise try and scrape out of his head with one of those machines. Telling him all about the fight against Ra, all the stuff with Apophis and Daniel coming back to Earth with him, so they could look for Sha're and Skaara. All the time, Scaly's eyes had been on him, giving him a hundred percent of his concentration, making him strain to get every detail right in the faint hope he could talk his way out of this after all.

Because, no matter how the Unas had looked, Scaly didn't look like any kind of Goa'uld and the angry hiss that he'd given when Jack had spoken Ra's name was enough of an encouragement to give it the old college try.

"My friends must be going crazy," Jack said, "wondering where I am. Where are we, anyway?"

"You... gone." The first words Scaly had said, or the first that Jack could really understand, anyway.

"You can speak English?" Jack had hoped that was the case - he'd talked his head off as if it were true, not knowing for certain.

"In time."

"Huh." Jack tried to find a more comfortable position on the table and failed. "Think you could let me down off here?" Scaly didn't move. "Or not."

"You serve... Goa'uld." One claw-tipped hand strayed towards a set of controls, one whose purpose Jack knew all too well, from recent and painful experience.

"No, damnit!" He was surprised when Scaly stopped in his tracks, hand in mid-air. "No. I told you what happened, what we did. We killed Ra, and we'll kill Apophis too, if we get the chance." The hand hovered for a moment, as if testing his truthfulness, then dropped to Scaly's side. "Now I don't suppose you could untie me?" Jack ventured, trying to force a grin.

\-----------------

He'd immersed himself in his work, but Daniel found he was constantly on edge - he couldn't help expecting one or other of his team to come looking for him, in particular Sam, to come and push him into giving the eulogy for Jack. It was ridiculous, he knew that, but there was something that said as long as he didn't say the words then Jack wasn't really gone. Considering his own previous experiences with witnessing death, it was hardly surprising he was reluctant to admit to himself that he'd lost once more.

His pen moved scratchily over the paper, the familiar letters Daniel was attempting to translate almost soothing to his otherwise whirling mind. They could have done something, tried to save Jack, but instead the three of them had left him there to die alone. He wasn't sure what he'd yelled, when Teal'c was holding him back, but Daniel was certain it hadn't been anything rational. He remembered Sam yelling something too, but had no idea what she'd said either.

Now, the future stretched out featureless before him. Not that he didn't trust Sam and Teal'c - he couldn't help trusting them, as much as he was able - but a future without Jack O'Neill seemed an unbearable idea. He'd trusted Jack, relied on Jack's assurance that they'd get Sha're back, rescue Skaara too, and then... well, Daniel had never really thought that far ahead but he was certain he'd know what to do when that time came. And that Jack would back him in whatever decision he made.

Those two certainties had been _his_ certainty, those mornings when he didn't know how he managed to summon up the energy to get out of bed.

It was simplistic to say he was depressed, though Daniel was certain that would probably be the label Janet would want to put on how he was feeling right now. In some ways, it was totally accurate, except that it didn't recognize that he _should_ be feeling like his own world had come to an end - it wasn't an illness, it was a completely normal reaction to what he'd experienced.

All he wanted to do was get back to work. They'd insist on the memorial service first, of course, and he'd attend under duress but that was it. Then he just wanted to get out there, to continue what they'd started even though he wasn't completely sure it could be accomplished without the impetus of Jack's impatient personality.

Assuming he was still allowed off-world. It had been a combination of his stubbornness and Jack's persuasion that had got Hammond to agree to that in the first place, and Daniel couldn't assume that agreement still stood. He hoped that was the case, being certain he'd go slowly crazy if he wasn't allowed to carry on going through the Stargate, but all he could do was hope.

\----------------

Scaly had untied him eventually, though it was clear the action was reluctant and Jack didn't think he was really trusted. Still, any respite from having his brain turned inside out was a good thing and he wasn't going to look a gift alien in the mouth.

He'd taken the opportunity to explore his prison, discovering the semi-translucent wall at one end that gave him a good view of the seabed - it also explained why the probe had detected no sign of civilization on the surface. He had to wonder how long Scaly had been here. If things were different, Daniel would be in his element, but instead Jack was stuck here, struggling to communicate.

The others had to be looking for him still, didn't they? No matter what Scaly had said, Jack couldn't believe that his team would give up easily - if their roles were reversed he'd never leave someone behind.

He didn't even want to think what they were going through, while he was MIA. Though Sarah had never talked about what that had been like for her, it had all been there in her expression when Jack had finally returned home after those long months in Iraq. How much worse would it be for his team, considering they had seen something happen to him firsthand, instead of relying on their imaginations?

He'd promised Daniel, too, that they'd find Sha're and Skaara. No matter what it took, Jack was determined to keep that promise and he knew that would be something Daniel was thinking about, even now. He didn't even want to think about how Daniel might be dealing with losing him, even if that loss wasn't real. Daniel had lost enough people that it was quite possible someone else would push him right over the edge. Thank god the rest of the team were there for him; Jack knew they'd keep an eye on Daniel, no matter how long it took for him to find his feet again.

"You." Jack turned from his contemplation of the seabed to see Scaly standing in the doorway. "You come."

"Sure," Jack said, as Scaly beckoned him with one huge claw. He was almost growing used to the guy now. "What's up?"

Scaly turned, heading out into the corridor where Jack had never been before, or at least not when he was conscious. The floors here, like the chamber where he'd been imprisoned, were damp - a strange green phosphorescence made the base of the walls glow in the dim light. Yet more confirmation, if any was needed, that they were underwater.

"Where are we going?"

Scaly didn't answer, just continued to pad noiselessly down the corridor - Jack followed, trying to keep track of the twists and turns as he was led deeper into the maze of tunnels. Not that Scaly seemed bothered about the fact he was keeping an eye on where they were going, and Jack found himself relaxing more the further he got away from his makeshift cell. If he never saw that table again, it would be too soon.

After about twenty minutes walk, Scaly halted outside one of a row of similar doors, then gestured with his hand towards the control pad that lay beside it. He stood motionless for a moment, then turned and looked straight at Jack, as if he wanted his attention on what was happening.

"I'm watching," Jack said.

Scaly tapped out a simple code, four distinct keys, and the door slid open silently. Inside, the green phosphorescence was clearly present in the moment before the light level inside the chamber gradually rose. Inside, Jack could now see rows and rows of shelving, crammed into the chamber haphazardly and all stacked with boxes.

"What's this?" Jack asked, shooting a look at Scaly for permission to enter. "Okay, I'll bite."

In a couple of strides he was at the nearest shelf and pulled the closest box towards him. The material, clearly not paper-based, was cool and a little slick - an unpleasant, oily feeling - the lid sliding free at the slightest movement of Jack's hands. Inside, nestled in padding that reminded Jack of the inside of a gun case, were metal objects. He took one out, hefting it in his hand and noting the way his fingers curled round what appeared to be the grip. It looked like a zat, the side arms the Jaffa sometimes carried, except more angular and blocky.

Jack aimed it at the floor, his fingers tightening on what he thought was the trigger mechanism. When the dust cleared, he could see a small crater in the floor, Scaly's hissing complaints faded in and out as his ears tried to adjust to the change in pressure, and found he was smiling for the first time in longer than he could remember.

\----------------

Afterward, if Daniel had been asked to describe Jack's memorial service, he knew he'd have been hard-pressed to do so. He'd wandered through it in a kind of daze, reluctantly taking his place alongside Sam and Teal'c - for their sake, not his - almost relieved when the pressure of the folded flag into his hands marked that they were almost at the end of the ceremony.

He was glad of something to do with his hands, even if it was just the opportunity to watch the skin of his knuckles whiten as his hands tightened on the folded material.

The compassion he saw in certain people's eyes was the worst of it, of course. Maybe they were right, maybe one day he'd feel like his heart hadn't been ripped bodily from his chest, but Daniel was finding that hard to believe. If it wasn't for Jack's unfulfilled promise, the one he'd never now keep about rescuing Sha're and Skaara, Daniel wasn't sure he'd manage to get out of bed every morning.

The news of a mission for SG-1, just days after the memorial service was itself now a memory, gave Daniel a momentary judder of revulsion. He didn't quite know what he felt about going through the Stargate once more, for the first time since they'd left Jack behind, but he knew it had to happen some time. And as much as he loved the work he did at the SGC, nothing more than immersing himself in the intricacies of a complex translation, he couldn't compare that with the other part of his work.

He was the first at the bottom of the ramp, waiting a little anxiously for the rest of his team. The door slid open once more and Sam walked in, talking with Major Ferretti, who turned his attention from her to give Daniel a nod and a small smile. Behind them, tightening the straps on his vest, Teal'c stalked into the embarkation room, dark eyes scanning the assembled technicians till he saw Daniel. Then he skirted round Sam and Ferretti, who were clearly debating some minor detail regarding the mission, and came over to stand beside Daniel.

"Hey, Teal'c."

"DanielJackson."

Whatever Teal'c might have said next was interrupted by the sound of the Stargate dialing - whenever that happened, it always drew everyone's attention regardless of how many time's they'd seen and heard it before. Daniel watched the chevrons engage, one by one, wondering just what lay on the other side of the event horizon this time.

He'd seen the MALP footage, of course, though it hadn't been particularly helpful when all that could be seen was the inside of a tumbledown building with no apparent way out. The MALP was equipped for rough terrain, but there was enough debris on the floor that even the tracks were struggling to make headway and eventually it had been decided that the mission was a go anyway.

There were some interesting inscriptions on the far wall, though they were apparently covered in a layer of mud, smeared across them sufficiently to make most of them illegible. It was those, more than anything else, that seemed to have encouraged Sam to press for the go ahead, even though Daniel was sure this mission was more for his benefit than any true scientific or military importance.

He wasn't about to turn down the chance to stretch his legs, though, even if it all turned out to be an anti-climax. If there was one thing he needed, Daniel was certain it was a return to as close to normality as he could manage without Jack being there. He trusted Ferretti, but he wasn't Jack.

"Let's go," Ferretti said, leading the way up the ramp towards the rippling surface of the event horizon. He didn't bother to look back, confident the rest of the team would follow, and their boots rang momentarily on the mesh of the ramp before they stepped into infinity together.

\----------------

Scaly had only let him take a couple of things, and had blocked his way to one particular set of shelves. Considering what he'd been allowed to take, Jack didn't want to think about what he'd been barred from and decided he didn't really need to know. That way he could plead ignorance when he got back to Earth and was asked to explain himself. Not that anyone was going to find Scaly and live to tell the tale unless he wanted them to, if the contents of his little arsenal were anything to go by.

"Go." That was Scaly again, standing by the door as if waiting for him to come out. "Go, kill Goa'uld."

Well, he couldn't argue with that, could he? It wasn't as if he had many alternatives, after all - Jack knew that his command code for the iris would have been locked out long before now, as a security precaution, and that meant no getting home that way. He had no idea how long he'd been here, or how long a break there would have been in missions because of his supposed death. And that meant there was also no way of telling just where SG teams would be visiting any time soon.

Jack knew his eyes had glazed over when Carter had started talking about just how many Stargates there were out there, but whatever the number had actually been, it was big. Too big for Jack to like the odds of stumbling across anyone from the SGC by sheer chance.

Sure, he could head back to one of the worlds they'd already visited and hang around there, but again the chances of one of them getting a visit from the SGC wasn't good. And it just wasn't in Jack's nature to sit around and wait, not when he had the fruits of Scaly's labors and the possibility of using them to cause a whole load of trouble for the Goa'uld. Wasn't that half what their traveling the universe was about, anyway?

Besides, Scaly had given him the stuff on the understanding that he would use it for that purpose, not head on home with it and have it spirited away to Area 51 for months or years before they got the chance to use it again in the field.

"Go," Scaly said again, waving his claws in Jack's direction and herding him away from the arsenal door.

He let himself be driven along the corridor, mindful of how sharp those talons looked, and then the floor began to slope upward, gently at first and then steeper and steeper. The light was changing too, from the phosphorescence of the lower corridors to a diffuse light that seemed to glow from the walls themselves. Jack hefted the bag he'd found, wondering just what he was supposed to do when he got to the surface - he had no idea where the Stargate was, or even if it was still operational.

He turned a corner in the tunnel and came to a complete halt. The slope he had been climbing flattened out again, the end of it a sheer wall of greenish-blue, across which an occasional fish swam. Jack could see light filtering down from the surface, lighting up the place where air and sea met if not for Scaly's technology.

"What now?"

"Go." Scaly prodded him with one massive claw, making Jack take a step towards the barrier.

He reached out and touched it with one hand, felt it give way a little under the pressure of his fingers, then felt Scaly jab him sharply in the back. The sensation made him jerk forwards, pushing his arm and shoulder into the barrier and then through it into the water beyond. The water was cold, the sensation of being both wet and dry at the same time somewhat disorienting.

"Bye," Jack said, realizing that if he didn't get out of there Scaly was likely to shove him bodily through into the water very soon. He took a deep breath, tightened his grip on the bag he carried and stepped forward as if he was walking through the Stargate.

\----------------

The transmissions from the MALP hadn't lied - the floor of the room that housed the Stargate was littered with piles of rock, much of which had fallen from the ceiling if the gaps to what was clearly a set of rooms above was any clue. Daniel picked his way carefully through the debris, heading directly for the wall on which the MALP's camera had picked up the inscriptions. The rest of the ceiling looked pretty solid, but they had no way of knowing just what had caused the rest to collapse and he knew first hand how devastating such an event could be.

Up close, the inscriptions were tantalizingly familiar, covered as they were with a thick layer of dark mud. In places, it seemed as though the mud had been pressed deep into the inscription itself, a deliberate attempt to cover it up, and he wondered at that. Why not just take a chisel to the marks instead, erase them permanently rather than try and cover them over? The stone seemed soft enough, some kind of sandstone that was already starting to flake in places.

"Are you with us, Dr. Jackson?" Ferretti asked. He was standing far enough away that Daniel didn't strike him by accident when he jerked in response, evidently familiar enough with such situations to choose a safe distance. "We need to check the surroundings first, then you can get a proper look at that."

The surroundings, however, proved particularly uninteresting and Daniel found himself back with the inscription sooner than he'd anticipated. Outside the two-story building that housed the Stargate, a featureless plain stretched as far as they could see. In the distance, there were vague shapes of what might be hills, but the poor light made it difficult to tell - still, from outside the building, Sam could launch a probe and they'd get a better look at the planet as a whole.

On the other side of the building ran a small stream, clearly the source of the mud that had been smeared over the inscription. Daniel crouched by the side of the stream, and then dipped his hand into the water before pulling it back towards the muddy edge. The mud was dark, cool and gritty between his fingers. The stream itself flowed sluggishly, its wide banks telling of the possibility of a greater amount of water some other time of the year.

"Daniel?"

"Here, Sam," Daniel said, getting up. He wiped his hand on the low grass as he stood, though some traces of the mud still remained. "How's it going?"

"The probe just came through, so I'll be setting it up shortly and then we'll see what else is out there," Sam replied. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and Daniel found himself smiling unexpectedly at the normality of it. "Think we need to stay longer than that?"

They walked back into the building, leaving Ferretti and Teal'c on guard outside. Teal'c had already explored the upstairs, as much to assure himself that the rest wouldn't collapse and bury the Stargate, as to ensure it wasn't occupied by something that might pose a threat. It had been empty, clearly stripped bare by the last occupants and leaving nothing but dust and scrapes on the stone floor to show that anyone had ever lived there.

"I don't think so," Daniel said. "I don't know if I can get this mud off and photograph the inscription, but the stone itself looks like it's been damaged in places so I won't know how much further damage removing the mud will cause till I try."

"Sounds reasonable." Sam was digging into the nearest box of the small pile that had appeared through the Stargate while Daniel had been outside. "Here," she said, pulling out a flask and a couple of mugs. "Since we were getting stuff from the SGC, I figured we should get some coffee and save making it ourselves."

Daniel accepted a mugful of coffee with the appropriate thanks, then stood looking at the inscription for a couple of minutes. The script itself was legible in places, a runelike script that put him in mind of Oscan, but he'd need to uncover more of it to be sure of its origins. If he was lucky, it would prove to be something less obscure and more easily translated, but luck wasn't always with them on expeditions like this.

If Jack were here... Daniel took a mouthful of coffee to cover the start that unexpected thought had given him and then made himself complete it, even though it made his heart ache to do so. If Jack were here, he'd be complaining about wasting time on chicken scratch, yet Daniel knew he'd have whatever time he needed, unless they were in imminent danger.

He'd been lucky, lucky to have worked with someone like Jack, to be still working with people who would give him the same space to work as he needed to, rather than pushing him to abandon the place and its mysteries simply because it didn't seem to have any military or strategic value.

\----------------

He remembered the smell from last time round; rotten eggs had nothing on Scaly's planet, once Jack broke the surface gasping for air regardless of how it smelled. He'd emerged in thirty feet of water, forced to kick for the surface against the pull of the bag he carried, and found himself stumbling out of the water onto the small beach. If he remembered correctly, the Stargate was within an hour or so's walk, over the small rise that separated the beach from the bank of trees that stood in the near distance.

First things first. Jack checked his bag, glad to see that it was still closed. No food, though - that was going to be a priority once he reached the Stargate, but the weapons Scaly let him take would give him enough of an advantage against pretty much anyone he could meet on the other side that Jack really wasn't too worried about heading out from here. Still, it would have been nice to be leaving on a full stomach.

At least the trek to the Stargate would dry him off. Jack was about to head for the trees when he heard movement behind him, splashing in the water. For a moment, when he turned, he thought Scaly had changed his mind and was pursuing him, till he saw that the creature was clutching his combat vest in one clawed hand. He walked down to the edge of the water and waited for Scaly to come closer.

"Thanks," he said, as the vest was handed over. It was sodden, of course, but the pockets were still full of the things he liked to carry on every mission. There should be an MRE stuffed in there, or at least a couple of power bars. "I guess this is really goodbye, then?"

Scaly didn't answer, just turned and walked back into the water - Jack watched him till he disappeared from sight, then turned back towards the tree line. He shrugged on the vest as he walked, the familiar weight much easier to carry that way, and slung the bag Scaly had given him over one shoulder. No MRE's, he discovered, once he'd worked his way through all the pockets, but a couple of mangled-looking power bars took the edge off his appetite long enough to make it to the Stargate.

This was the moment of choice. He could head for somewhere safe, like the Land of Light, and wait it out. The people there had no way of contacting the SGC, though, and it could be months before anyone ventured back there from Earth. The thought of being stuck anywhere for that period of time chafed at Jack and he rejected it immediately. Of course, it was possible that someone with Scaly's level of technology could crack the GDO code and make it possible for him to get through the iris and home, but he'd seen no sign of his GDO since he'd been held captive so it was likely it had been damaged or destroyed.

The only alternative was to get out there, visiting as many planets as physically possible, in the hope of lowering the odds of bumping into an SG team. And in the meantime, using what Scaly had given him to cause as much difficulty for the Goa'uld as he could. Two for the price of one, and a damn sight more appealing than sitting on his ass for who knew how long.

Mind made up, Jack tried a random sequence of characters, only for the sequence to falter at the fifth chevron. It took three tries to find a working Stargate address, which didn't bode well, but the third time all seven chevrons locked successfully and the familiar kawhoosh formed. Jack finished his power bar, tucked the empty wrapper carefully back into his vest pocket and walked forward, into the unknown.

On the other side, there was darkness. A velvet, heavy darkness that made the disorientation of 'gate travel even more unsettling than usual - it made Jack's head swim as he reached out carefully to ensure he didn't walk into anything. It was warm too, a cloying warmth that seemed to settle on him with every step.

Somewhere, he reasoned, must be both the structure that this Stargate was housed within and the DHD. It was hardly possible that anywhere outdoors could be this dark, so he had to be either indoors or underground.

Jack was reluctant to get too far from the Stargate, keeping to the plinth on which it stood and moving carefully with his foot along its edge, in case he lost it in this all-enveloping blackness. Still, as he eased along, his outstretched hands found nothing, not that he had expected anything much to be in the direct line of the Stargate's activation. However, there was no sign of anything anywhere near the Stargate, even at its sides, so he had no idea of the extent of the darkness. For all he knew, it stood in some kind of cavern, the walls mere feet from his reach, but it might as well have been endless.

"Crap," he said, sitting down on the plinth. There was no echo; maybe the cavern - if it was a cavern - wasn't that big but if he couldn't find his way safely from the Stargate to the DHD, he was going to be stuck here, and there was little chance he could navigate safely in this darkness. "Think, god damnit."

Jack unwrapped the second power bar and ate it while he thought, mentally running through the inventory of his vest and the bag. He had waterproof matches in his pocket, but what did he have that he could use as kindling that wasn't too damp to burn?

There was nothing in either his pockets or the bag that would do any better, but Jack didn't like the idea of burning his vest given that he didn't know what fumes it might give off. He had no idea what the ventilation was like in here, wherever here was, and no intention of poisoning himself on his first independent trip through the Stargate. He shifted uncomfortably where he sat, feeling his clothes stick in places and chafe in others.

"Of course," Jack said, and began to pull at his bootlaces. "Why the hell didn't I think of that before?

He stripped efficiently, toeing off his boots carefully so they wouldn't drop from the plinth into the formless darkness, then dropped his trousers and stepped out of them. His briefs were the driest thing on his body, despite the relatively recent swim he'd taken and the salt that crusted them from where the seawater had dried. Jack removed them carefully, keeping them in one hand as he pulled his slightly damp trousers back on, then replaced his boots.

It was the work of moments to tear the cotton into strips, and then begin to plait the strips into a thin rope. Not ideal, but all he had, and it should burn for long enough to get to the DHD - once there he wouldn't need light to use that device, since he'd know what was working from what chevrons lit. Likewise, the creation of a wormhole would give him enough light to get back to the Stargate and on to hopefully somewhere better than here.

Jack tied the rope he'd made carefully round the handle of one of the devices Scaly had given him. It wasn't ideal, but it was all he had. This had been a salutary lesson, though, on the idea that somewhere else wasn't always going to be better than the place he'd just left. Next time he'd make better preparations, that much was certain.

With one of his waterproof matches, Jack lit the cotton rope, smiling when it caught at the first try. After a few moments, there was enough light to see the immediate vicinity of the plinth on which he sat, but no sign of any walls. It wasn't likely that the DHD would be too far away, but it wasn't immediately visible from where the Stargate was located. Jack lifted the makeshift torch, squinting into the darkness directly in front of the Stargate, certain that the DHD must be there but just out of the reach of the fitful light the burning cotton cast.

Jack shouldered his bag once more, then lowered the torch and checked that there was actually ground in front of the plinth - with the luck he was having on this trip, there was nothing that would have surprised him. Packed earth stretched out in front of him and Jack stepped off the plinth and headed directly forward from where the Stargate stood. Within just a few paces, he was in a circle of light surrounded by featureless night; another few paces brought the first glint of light on gold as the DHD came into view.

This time he had more luck and the Stargate locked on the first attempt, the combination of the chevrons eventually giving off sufficient light that Jack could douse his makeshift torch and separate the still-smoldering cloth from the device he'd tied it to. When the wormhole formed, Jack was ready, Scaly's blaster in hand this time as he headed into the unknown once more.

\----------------

Back at the SGC, Daniel considered the photographs he'd taken of the inscription. He'd tried to remove the mud, but even with the use of water to soften it he'd found to his horror that shards of the friable stone came off with it. There was little chance that the inscription could be saved in its whole, since the softness of the stone never guaranteed that any inscription would last, even in the shelter of an inside wall. It was likely that stone had been quarried at the base of the nearby hills and then brought to where the Stargate stood, but for what purpose?

And why had someone not just chipped away at the inscription if they wished to destroy it, rather than smearing the sticky viscous mud across it as if to show their contempt for its substance as well?

He had to resign himself to the possibility that they might never know. What he could see of the inscription was just a small part of it, and while the script was familiar, that didn't guarantee that the words it represented were anything comprehensible. To an archaeologist, an epigrapher in particular, the riddle of Linear A was always at the back of their minds - if there was too little of a text to compare sources, and no Rosetta Stone at hand, it was likely that such a text might never be translated.

Still, Daniel relished the opportunities that 'gate travel brought him, even though the price he'd paid had been a high one, demanded from him more than once. It wasn't a fair deal, not by any stretch of the imagination, but Daniel knew he'd entered into it with his eyes open.

And now the initial shock was beginning to fade and he was back at work, back stepping through the Stargate to places no-one from Earth had seen before, Daniel found himself starting to recapture some of the wonder he'd never managed to forget. He wondered how Jack would feel about his going on, and also about how he'd behaved in recent days. Jack had known loss, though, known it intimately - Daniel was certain he wouldn't have been too harsh in his response, because of that.

He missed Jack though, more than he could have ever imagined. Not that Daniel had ever thought about the possibility of losing one of his team, and certainly not Jack O'Neill. He wondered if he hadn't allowed himself that thought, because it was too dreadful to contemplate, and decided that was probably the case. Who would willingly torture themselves with that kind of consideration, even if their recent - and not so recent - experiences of losing people they cared for had been as vivid as his?

Jack had lost people under his command; he knew that, the memory of Charlie Kawalsky fresh in all their minds. His memorial service too, when none of them could still quite believe that he wasn't there any more, let alone the manner of his passing.

What would be expected of him now, though? Now that the initial sting of losing Jack was starting to fade, what could Daniel expect of himself?

He'd carry on, that much was certain - though it was true enough that Daniel had considered just throwing it all in. But there was Sha're to consider, her and Skaara, still out there even if Jack wasn't going to be the one who brought them home to Abydos after all. Daniel himself had no intention of backing down on his promise to Kasuf, the oath he'd sworn to return those children of the desert to their arid home. There'd be difficult times ahead, he knew that as well as he knew anything, as well as the fact that it was likely to be this promise that would sustain him when those difficulties struck. Since he didn't have Jack to chivvy him along any more, or kick his ass when he needed it.

The door to his office opened and Daniel looked up from the photographs.

"No luck?" Sam asked, though Daniel knew she could probably tell the answer to that from his expression before she spoke. "That's too bad."

"No, there's no progress," he said, as he shoved the photographs together and back into their folder. "It's all still a mystery and likely to stay that way." Daniel dropped the folder on top of the nearby pile that graced the corner of his desk. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to see how you were," Sam said. He knew he might be imagining it, but he was certain she looked a little guilty - she took her responsibilities toward the rest of the team seriously, though, and in hindsight Daniel felt a little guilty himself, for how his behavior had probably made her feel. "And to remind you we have another mission tomorrow."

That had usually been Jack's job, that and the 'and you'd better make sure you get a good night's sleep, Daniel' speech that often accompanied it. As much as he liked Ferretti, Daniel was glad it was Sam reminding him, and not the Major. That wouldn't have seemed right, somehow.

"I know," Daniel said. "No burning the candle at both ends." He smiled and could see Sam relax a little, the guilty expression leaving her face. "We were lucky, weren't we?"

"Lucky?"

"To get someone we knew," Daniel continued. "Major Ferretti, instead of someone new." At least this was someone who understood how SG-1 worked, who appreciated the dynamics within the team that were so unique and yet made them work so well together. Someone who trusted Teal'c, as well, which was always going to be a problem for some people no matter how long the Jaffa was part of all this and how often he proved his worth. On the heels of losing Jack, a new unit CO who didn't trust Teal'c, who wouldn't appreciate an archaeologist's input, would have been too much for any of them to bear and Daniel was certain General Hammond was more than aware of that. "That would have been..."

"It would," Sam agreed, not letting him finish though Daniel wasn't completely sure what he would have said anyway. "Best of a bad situation." She sat for a moment, looking as if she wanted to say more but was unsure of the reception her words would receive. "I'd better get off too," she said finally. "Otherwise it's do as I say, not as I do." She stood. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"You will," he said. "Have a good night."

Daniel watched her leave, and then looked at the pile of files that teetered in his in tray, reaching out to straighten them a little and prevent their inevitable slide from the desk onto the floor. If he started in on those, he knew there was little chance of him following Sam's dictum, though he also knew she was right. Just like Jack had been right so many times.

He sat back, closed his eyes for a moment. Then, mind made up, Daniel got up from his chair and headed for the door.

\----------------

Of course, he'd never know what he was going to find, on each trip through the Stargate, but Jack was resigned to that. Anything was better than being stuck in the darkness that had marked his first expedition and he kept that thought in the back of his mind whenever another planet full of trees was what he saw on emerging through the event horizon.

The next planet had been more welcoming than that, anyway. He'd scouted out a nearby village, before sneaking in once he'd seen the villagers leaving for what he assumed was some market or festival - damn, he was starting to think like Daniel! He'd been sparing in what he'd taken, since he'd seen that the locals weren't doing too well, only helping himself to some clothes and a little food. Once he'd changed into his new outfit, Jack had followed the trail the villagers had taken.

It wasn't hard to keep out of sight, since nobody else seemed to be sneaking around. There was no sign of Jaffa here, or at least no sign that anyone other than the villagers in their soft-soled boots had taken this track. Jack watched from the undergrowth as two of them passed his location, heading back to the village he'd just left. They were deep in conversation, but their voices were pitched low enough that Jack couldn't hear what they said so he didn't know what language they spoke.

He knew that was likely to be a problem at some point. While Jack had a smattering of a number of languages, though most of his vocabulary wasn't all that suitable for polite company, he'd never got around to learning the Jaffa language and in hindsight he wondered if that had been a mistake. He'd relied on Daniel for translations, on Teal'c to speak for them as well, trusting both of them to do their jobs.

Even if he confronted the locals here, would he be able to communicate with them?

Once the two villagers were out of sight, Jack watched the path for a moment before slipping out from his hiding place. He needed to know what was going on here, whether this was a safe place to stay for a couple of days or whether it was Goa'uld central. While he had no problem with facing down some Jaffa, particularly as it would give him a chance to test out Scaly's weapons properly in a combat scenario, he'd choose to do that when the odds weren't stacked too much against him. At his age, Jack had discovered he no longer really needed the adrenaline rush of combat the way he had when he was younger and more stupid.

The path, which seemed to follow an animal trail through patches of woodland, took him roughly west and Jack followed it, keeping an eye out for other travelers. There was still no sign of heavier tracks, not even evidence that animals had used this trail in recent weeks, though the soil was loose and sandy where it hadn't been beaten down by recent traffic.

After another mile or so, the woods began to thin and Jack found himself standing at the edge of a sloping valley, a valley full of tall grasses sloping down towards a small town and the river beyond. The river, blue-gray in the fitful sunlight, curved off into the distance behind the pile of dun-colored houses that sprawled along a fair stretch of its banks.

This wasn't the only trail into town, Jack could see that, and the others looked more traveled than this - the one that followed the path of the river for some distance looked like it was paved in some way, so this town had been here for a while.

It didn't look like a typical Goa'uld settlement, Jack had to give it that. Those usually had some kind of temple structure, with at least one building that stood out from the rest, but there was no sign here of that. There wasn't even a perimeter wall, nothing to separate town from countryside, and that was usually a good sign where the motivations of its inhabitants were concerned.

Jack decided to try his luck, heading down the sloping path at a comfortable pace. He figured, after all, that he now looked like one of them so there was a reasonable chance he could just blend in and reconnoiter the situation without causing too many problems. Assuming they spoke some variation of a language he could understand, of course.

He slipped between the two closest houses to the edge of the town, stepping carefully, glad that the drab clothing he was now wearing blended in well with the coloring of the buildings. There seemed to be an open space in the middle of the town, some kind of marketplace, and Jack headed in that general direction. It was only the unexpected tramp of boots that made him stop, shrinking back into the cover of a half-collapsed shelter as two Jaffa passed him by.

He recognized those helmets, but what were Apophis' cronies doing here? Jack edged out of shelter once he was sure they weren't just the first of many, and followed them cautiously. Sure enough, as he'd expected, they didn't turn round. Because who in their right mind would be following serpent guards right into the middle of trouble anyway?

The two Jaffa marched into the marketplace, their boots now ringing on the dressed stone that covered the open area. There were others already there, four that Jack could see, two of them holding a shabbily dressed man between them. He looked like he'd put up a fight, since his head was still bleeding and he was more hanging between his two captors than standing on his own.

Jack inched closer, still in the shadow of one of the houses, then across using one of the makeshift stalls for cover. He didn't know what the Jaffa were up to, or what this man's crime was, but he had a pretty good idea how it was going to go for the man they'd captured, and he wasn't likely to get a smack on the wrist and be told to be a good boy from now on.

Without taking his eyes off the tableau in front of him, Jack slipped one hand into the bag he carried, his fingers curling round the grip of one of Scaly's weapons. Time for a test run, it seemed.

"Hear us, citizens of Arannis," one of the Jaffa said, his helmet having slid back to reveal a stern face, older than Jack had expected. He looked like a contemporary of Bra'tac. "This man has sinned against your god and must be punished. But he is not alone..." The Jaffa paused, scanning the faces of the few townsfolk standing around the open space. "Others have aided him in his blasphemy and will also face retribution."

With that, his helmet slammed closed again and the Jaffa beckoned to the two holding the man captive. They moved, heading towards one end of the marketplace, the other four following - all six turned their back on the locals, the sheer arrogance of the Jaffa just as Jack had expected. He took that opportunity to step clear of the stall, the sudden movement attracting the attention of a few men standing nearby.

"Do not interfere," one of them hissed. His accent was heavy but Jack had no difficulty understanding him, as he'd had no difficulty with comprehending the Jaffa. "Please. For our sakes."

Another of the small group stepped deliberately between Jack and the Jaffa, who were oblivious to all of this.

"Listen to him," the newcomer said. "This won't help." His face was hidden in the shadow of a hood, so Jack couldn't see the expression there, but the words were vehement.

"Your friend is going to be killed," Jack said.

"He's not our friend," the first man said. He reached out, took hold of Jack's wrist, stepping forward till Scaly's weapon was pressed between their bodies. Jack knew he could get free - all those years of unarmed combat meant that wasn't a problem - but it wasn't looking like he could do it without harming this man severely, which seemed to defeat the object. "You don't know what's happening here."

"So, explain it to me," Jack said. Over the shoulder of the men he could still see the Jaffa, the two who held the man prisoner still holding him captive as they led him from the open space. "Before I do it anyway."

The look the man gave him was so familiar, it took Jack's breath away - he'd seen that exasperated expression on Daniel's face so often that he recognized it immediately. It was that 'don't be an ass' expression that he almost aimed to get sometimes, and acted the goat to obtain. Something about it, the familiarity of it maybe, made him relax and he felt the other man relax as well, much of the tension between them evaporating.

\--------------------

'Another routine meet and greet,' Daniel thought, as he thanked the village headman for the cup of whatever-it-was that he'd just been handed. They seemed pleased to see the team, which was always nice as an alternative to getting shot at by Jaffa, but puzzled at the sudden appearance of anyone through the ring of the gods.

"Good health to you and to your family," the headman said, raising his cup before he tipped it back and cleanly swallowed its entire contents. Obediently, Daniel followed suit though the rawness of the alcohol burned its way down his throat - for a moment he was certain it would continue and eat its way out through his stomach wall. "Good, is it not?"

Daniel nodded, unable to answer for fear of a coughing fit and sure his face had reddened with the effort, but the headman seemed pleased enough with that response and turned his attention to Teal'c. The Jaffa had quaffed the cupful of liquor with apparent ease, a noncommittal expression still fixed on his face, and Daniel found himself envying Teal'c's cast iron constitution.

When he could finally trust himself to speak, Daniel insinuated himself into the relatively-one sided conversation the two were having, directing it back towards the reason for their visit.

"You say we're the first visitors you've had in a long time?" he asked.

"In my memory, there have been none," the headman said. His hair was grizzled, clipped short as if he'd been shorn, and it seemed likely that his memory was a reasonably long time. "My father spoke of visitors, but he was a child when they came to our village. None since that time."

"That's odd," Daniel said, turning to Sam, who sat on his other side. "Why wouldn't the Goa'uld continue to come here?"

"Maybe whatever they got from here ran out," Sam suggested. She hadn't been offered whatever homemade hooch had been pressed on both Daniel and Teal'c; while she'd initially not appeared happy about this, now she didn't look like she felt the same way about being left out. "If it was naquadah, they could have stripped the available reserves and then just left the rest of the workers here." She looked thoughtful. "The population is pretty small, what we've seen so far."

Daniel nodded, then turned back to the headman. "Are there other villages, like this one?" he asked.

"Two that I know of," the headman replied. "One at the base of the mountains, another towards the sea."

"And have you ever seen someone with that mark on his forehead," Daniel continued. He gestured toward Teal'c. "Or another like it." The headman shook his head. That seemed to be that, since they had no reason to think they weren't being told the truth.

Maybe Sam was right - the low level of population could easily be explained simply as former workers who'd just been left behind when the natural resources of the planet had been exploited. After all, the Goa'uld rarely seemed to have much of a problem acquiring a new workforce when they wanted one and such a small number of people would probably have been more trouble than they were worth to relocate.

They'd send a survey team here anyway, check out what the planet had to offer, that was the absolute minimum for a place that had no recent sign of Goa'uld habitation. Not the most interesting side of the job, but an essential one if they were to stand any chance of defeating the Goa'uld in the future. Daniel realized the headman was addressing him once more, though he'd been paying no attention as he considered what might have been the history of this place, and he fixed a more attentive expression on his face before turning to speak with him once more.

\------------------

Jack let himself be hustled away, when it was clear that the locals here weren't going to let him interfere like he'd planned. He wasn't pleased with this development - if he was going to be stuck traveling the galaxy on his own, he wanted to kick some Goa'uld ass while he was doing it - but they were insistent to the point where his only recourse would have been to draw his weapon on them too. Something told him that wouldn't be a good idea, for so many reasons, and he put the weapon back in his backpack as he followed his new friend through the maze of streets towards the river.

"Here," the man he was following said, finally. He ducked into a particular doorway, one that looked no different from the dozens of doors they'd passed in this convoluted journey, and Jack followed on his heels. "Welcome to my house, stranger."

It wasn't much to look at. A low room, with roughly plastered walls, the floor beaten earth. A doorway, covered by a dark green curtain, led to another room and from behind it Jack could hear quiet conversation. He wondered what they were talking about, in there - whatever it was, they hadn't stopped talking just because someone had entered the building.

"How about you explain to me just what the hell you thought you were doing?" Jack asked. His former placid mood was evaporating now, to the point where he wondered just why he'd meekly followed the stranger here.

"Of course," the man said. "But first I should tell you..."

"I don't want to hear it," Jack said, interrupting. "Explanations, that's all I want."

The man pushed back his hood. Somehow Jack had expected what he'd see there, so he wasn't surprised by the symbol on his forehead, black lines curving into an unfamiliar shape. His face was careworn, his hair graying at the temples, as Jack knew his own did, though it was certain this man was much younger than he was.

"My name is Jarron." He didn't look bothered by Jack's gruffness. "And as I said before, the man you were about to try and help, he was not our friend."

"No?"

"No." Jarron gestured to a low bench that stretched the length of one wall. "Please. Sit, and I'll bring you some water."

He didn't want to get comfortable, that was the last thing he needed to do. Jack eyed Jarron for a moment, but it was clear the other man had no intention of saying anything more, or at least not right now. After a moment, Jack moved toward the bench Jarron had indicated, dropping his backpack beside it as he sat.

"A moment," Jarron said, then disappeared into the room that lay the other side of the green curtain. The conversation, which had continued in muted tones, stopped abruptly when Jarron entered the other room.

Jack stretched out his legs, eyeing the condition of the boots he'd stolen earlier. He'd been right about the size, and they were as comfortable as anything else he'd ever worn. Unexpectedly so. He found that he was making himself even more comfortable as the minutes passed; leaning his head back against the mud-plaster wall, Jack found himself relaxing for the first time since he'd left Scaly's planet.

He hadn't wanted to think about that; about what had happened to the rest of his team and what they probably thought had happened to him. Now he wasn't forced to think about survival, or how to get the hell off a planet he didn't want to be on, or the best way to hunt Jaffa, Jack found he could think of nothing else. And none of those thoughts were good.

There wasn't much he could do about it, not stuck here the other side of the galaxy for all he knew, but that didn't stop him worrying. Hell, he could probably be three days dead and still concerned about how his team would cope without him. That just came with the territory, Jack reminded himself - the mother hen thing was part and parcel of being a good C.O.

He had a pretty good idea what was going on, without him there to keep an eye on them. Daniel, Jack suspected, was likely burning the candle at both ends unless someone kept a close watch on what he got up to. Teal'c wouldn't be saying much, but Jack was certain he'd be worrying that he might not get quite as good a reception from the next team leader he worked with - they weren't all as forgiving of a former Jaffa as Jack had been, had been forced to be by the sheer fact that Teal'c had helped get them out of more than one sticky situation. And Carter, well Carter would probably be stewing on the whole mess, feeling responsible for the rest of the team in Jack's absence and working her way to an ulcer in record time.

The curtain moved again, this time Jarron was coming back into the room, a rough earthenware cup in his hand.

\------------------

Later, Daniel had excused himself and left the claustrophobic confines of the headman's hut, in search of a little air. His head was spinning from the alcohol he'd consumed and the coldness outside was a relief, even if after a few moments the wind seemed to cut through him like a knife. The night was clear, the stars sharp against the velvet blackness of the sky, and for a moment Daniel just stood with his back to the settlement and gazed upwards, wondering if he'd ever seen anything as beautiful in his life.

It reminded him of Abydos, of the nights when he couldn't sleep and would leave Sha're's side and walk outside the city, relishing the crisp desert air. He wouldn't stay out too long, just long enough to remind himself how lucky he was, in so many ways. Long enough to think that peaceful existence would last forever, seeing himself living among the peaceful people of Nagada for the rest of his life, surrounded by a host of children and grandchildren if he was lucky. Part of something. Something permanent and timeless.

That had turned out to be an illusion, of course, as Daniel had learned to his cost. He hadn't realized that the loss of Sha're would be the first in a line of loss; that sequence had continued with Major Kawalsky and now with Jack O'Neill. He was still part of something, something important for all their sakes, and Jack would have wanted him not to give up. Daniel was certain of that, even if at times he was certain of nothing else.

From where he stood, he could see the Stargate, its solid presence dominating the landscape. Unlike the last planet they'd visited, this one stood in the open, looming over a low plain that eventually led to the settlement. Daniel found himself wondering about the defaced inscription he'd found there, whatever it meant - he didn't like it much when he couldn't figure something out but he had to admit, there didn't seem much chance of resolving that particular mystery any time soon.

"Daniel, are you okay?"

He wasn't sure whether it was the alcohol or the reminiscences that had him relaxed enough he didn't jump when Ferretti spoke. Daniel turned his head toward the hut, where he stood just outside the doorway.

"I'm fine," he replied. Ferretti wouldn't push, he was certain of that, probably because he knew it wouldn't get him any further than Daniel would allow him to go. "I just needed to clear my head."

Daniel heard the door close, then quiet footsteps across to where he stood.

"I don't know how Carter got to be the designated driver," Ferretti said. "Just lucky that way, I guess." He seemed to look around for the first time. "Wow, the stars really are bright here."

"It's the lack of pollution in the atmosphere." Daniel could feel Ferretti's presence even though the other man wasn't standing all that close. "Light pollution is what usually messes up our view of the stars from Earth."

He heard Ferretti moving, as the major shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Daniel was certain he wanted to say something, or ask something, but wasn't completely sure how it would be received.

"Do you miss him?" Ferretti asked, suddenly. He didn't have to explain who he meant, Daniel knew without a second thought who Ferretti was referring to. "I didn't think any of you would let me take over the way I did, but it's worked out better than I thought..."

Daniel glanced round, to see Ferretti gazing resolutely upwards. It was the safe option after all, preventing him from the need for making eye contact when asking potentially embarrassing questions.

"Well, you were hardly an unknown quantity," Daniel said. "And of course I miss Jack. How could I not miss him?"

Ferretti stopped pretending a fascination with the stars and looked at Daniel, the answer clearly a little more certain than he'd been expecting. He nodded once, as if reassured of something, then turned and headed back toward the headman's hut, leaving Daniel alone with the night.

\--------------------------

"So, explain." Jack drank the water, not taking his eyes off Jarron. The other man had sat opposite him, and was currently studying his interlaced fingers. Behind the green curtain, the muttered conversation had picked up once more, as if it had never been interrupted. "Why did you stop me?"

"It was a ruse," Jarron said, finally. He didn't look up, his voice almost too quiet for Jack to hear unless he leaned forward a little and concentrated. "Or maybe it would be better to call it a test."

"A test?"

"There have been rumors of rebellion here, even though the Goa'uld that the Jaffa serve has abased himself before Apophis," Jarron said, still intent on his hands. "So the Jaffa are more heavy-handed than before, in the hope of luring the rebels to attack them."

Jack considered that for a moment. It didn't seem an unreasonable explanation - the Goa'uld weren't keen on uprisings, for obvious reasons, and had a tendency to respond with overwhelming force when there was any sign of trouble.

"One of my friends," Jack began, picking his words with care and watching Jarron for a reaction. "He's been involved in that sort of thing." Jarron had stiffened in his seat but didn't look up. "Against Apophis."

Jarron didn't respond immediately, but Jack hadn't expected him to. If the Jaffa were running around trying to root out the revolutionaries, it was going to take more than a few leading statements to get Jarron to trust him. If he didn't get killed out of hand because the chance of him being a plant was too high.

"We have no such leader," Jarron said, the words coming cautiously. "Jaffa who are unhappy with the rule of the Goa'uld would doubtless travel through the chappa'ai to worlds no longer under the rule of the Goa'uld, in the hope the people they find there can help them."

"And if someone wanted to join up?" Jack asked, watching Jarron's face. "What would those Jaffa say about that, Jarron?"

Jarron was studying him intently, and it took all Jack's self-control not to squirm under that unblinking inspection. After a minute or so, Jarron moved, leaning forward to offer his hand and Jack took it, remembering how he'd seen the Jaffa clasp one another's arms.

"They would say 'welcome'," Jarron replied, his hand grasping Jack's forearm strongly.

\-----------------------------

It was amazing how quickly things could go wrong. They'd walked calmly down the steps that stood in front of the Stargate, Daniel's attention immediately taken by the richness of the decoration covering the walls of the small temple in which the Stargate stood, then out into the fitful sunlight of a spring afternoon. It had taken some persuasion to get him to come outside, though Daniel had hoped that the decoration, not to mention the large inscription that covered the wall that faced the Stargate.

Pockets of dense tree cover dotted the gently sloping landscape, and it was from one of those that the first shots came, blasting against the outside of the building. Daniel hit the floor, throwing himself full-length just in time to avoid a blast that came a little too close. He was cut off from the others, inadvertently allowing too much distance to grow between where he stood and the nearest of his team. Daniel crawled toward the closest clump of trees, looking for shelter as the next staff weapon blast arced across where he lay.

"Daniel!"

That was Sam yelling his name, but there was no way he could make it to where the others were, at the doorway of the building. Even as he watched, Sam disappeared inside and he could hear the Stargate powering up. After a few moments a light was visible through the doorway, shimmering blue.

"Come on, Jackson!" Ferretti yelled. Daniel half-turned then a spurt of earth raised by a staff weapon blast a little too close for comfort told him just how likely it was that he could make it to the building.

"Just go!"

Daniel waved frantically at Ferretti, who just looked at him for a moment before disappearing into the building. Then there was darkness, the light that had illuminated the doorway vanishing, and Daniel looked up to find a staff weapon pointed directly at his head.

\-----------------------------

Jarron's plan was simple, which gave Jack some encouragement. Get in, cause trouble for the Goa'uld - in this case, the one called Khnum who now served Apophis - and then get out again as quickly as possible. These were once his Jaffa, which made it relatively easy to attack his strongholds, as they retained the armor they'd worn when they had served him. Not that they restricted themselves to attacking the smaller system lords, though their revolutionary activities were still quite small-scale and word hadn't really spread of what they were up to.

"Others have come to the place where Khnum keeps his weapons," Jarron said, as he sat down to eat his evening meal with Jack. "One was captured."

Jack felt his stomach constrict at the news - it seemed unlikely, in all the thousands of possible Stargate addresses, that an SG team could have visited the very planet where he was about to be involved in a raid, but stranger things had happened.

"What others?" Jack asked, his hands clenching under the table. It could be someone he knew.

"Tau'ri, by all accounts," Jarron replied. He reached out and slapped Jack on the shoulder. "I look forward to going into battle with you, my friend."

"I'd like to check out that rumor when we get there, Jarron," Jack said. He couldn't take the risk that it was someone from the SGC being held prisoner - even if it wasn't, the enemy of his enemy was his friend. "We'll have time to blow up the arsenal and still get whoever it is out of there."

"Of course," Jarron said, stretching till Jack heard his vertebrae crack. "It will be a glorious battle."

Jack shook his head. If he'd ever thought Teal'c was single-minded about getting his revenge on the Goa'uld, he'd underestimated just how that kind of mindset could work. Jarron was almost obsessed with the idea, thinking of nothing else. Still, there was no reason why they couldn't kill two birds with one stone here - blow up the arsenal, rescue the prisoner, then get the hell out of Dodge before the other Jaffa tried to stop them.

\-----------------------------

He'd been asleep, which was a surprise in itself, but Daniel woke when there was a hollow booming sound, not far away. The floor on which he lay had bucked beneath him. That couldn't be good.

After a few moments the door slid open and a Jaffa entered. Daniel felt himself stiffen, pressing back against the rear wall of the cell, not because he was afraid but because he had no idea what was going to happen next. He'd been lucky so far; all that had happened since his capture was he'd been thrown into this cell and apparently forgotten - there hadn't even been the usual gloating session by whatever Goa'uld was in charge here.

Maybe his luck would continue, Daniel could blend into the background and the Jaffa wouldn't realize he was even there?

The helmet glinted in the light from the corridor, shifting as the Jaffa's head tilted a little to the side as if examining Daniel where he stood.

"Your line," the Jaffa said, "is 'Aren't you a little short for a stormtrooper?'"

With a hiss, the helmet slid back, disappearing into the collar of the Jaffa uniform and an unexpectedly familiar face appeared. It was Jack, thinner than when Daniel had seen him last, but definitely Jack O'Neill in the flesh.

Daniel felt the room wheel around him for a moment, then settle. Jack was watching him, still there in front of him wearing a Jaffa uniform. Daniel was sure he was staring, mouth open in surprise, and tried to think what he ought to say. What did you say when your best friend came back from the dead?

"Who said I have to be Leia?" Daniel asked, after a moment. "It's the hair, isn't it?"

Jack smiled then, all tension in the room evaporating at that response and Daniel took a step forward from the wall, a little wobblier than he would have liked. Jack was there, arms going around him, the Jaffa uniform making the embrace a little stiff and awkward but utterly real for all that.

"I don't believe it," Daniel said, when they separated. "How can you possibly be alive?"

Jack had crossed over to the doorway. Outside in the corridor, Daniel could hear Jaffa boots ringing on the stone, clearly coming closer, but for some reason Jack didn't seem worried.

"Just lucky, Daniel," he replied. "Though it didn't feel like it for a while. And I was worried about you guys." Jack reached up, triggering the helmet controls so it slid closed once more. "We need to get out of here. Are the others here as well?"

"They got away," Daniel replied, still feeling the shock of the situation. It hadn't sunk in, that Jack was really alive, and probably wouldn't for a while yet.

Jack took hold of Daniel's upper arm, as if pulling him along, though there was no force to the movement and Daniel let himself be half-led into the hallway. The door to his cell slid closed behind the two of them as three Jaffa rounded the corner and halted in front of where they stood.

"You have what you came for?" one of the Jaffa asked.

"I have," Jack said, "so we should go now."

The three Jaffa stood aside, letting Jack and Daniel lead the way. He didn't want to say anything, not knowing what arrangement had been made with these other Jaffa - did they know who Jack was, or did they think he was one of them? Jack's hand rested heavily on his shoulder, the solid presence of his friend so close to Daniel's side and back as he walked that he could almost feel him there.

It was reassuring, a sensation Daniel had never expected to have again, and at that moment he would have been certain nothing in his life could ever go wrong again.

\-----------------------

Now Daniel knew what it was like, the feeling Jack had experienced himself seeing someone he had never expected to encounter alive walk back into his life. Poetic justice, some might say. Daniel had taken it all in his stride, at least after the impersonation of a goldfish he'd tried on for size in the beginning - that was the difference between a face-to-face encounter and the time taken by Daniel making his way down the ramp to Ra's side through to where Jack knelt alongside the rest of his team.

He'd seen the same expression on Daniel's face, that mingled disbelief and hope, that Jack was certain had been on his own when he'd realized that Daniel had survived. Against all the odds, the two of them seemed a damned sight near indestructible and it was probably a bad idea to be sure either of them wasn't coming back until you'd actually seen the body.

And maybe not even then, if Daniel was anything to go by.

He didn't need an excuse to keep hold of Daniel, but Jack told himself it looked more realistic to anyone who might see the five of them, giving them the advantage of looking like they were doing something legitimate, taking a prisoner for interrogation.

"What's going on?" Daniel asked quietly.

"Jailbreak," Jack said, steering him to the leftmost corridor of three. There was daylight shining at the end of this corridor, around the curve that lay ahead. "Not quite 'The Great Escape', but it still works for me..."

They had reached the bend in the hallway now, turning into the daylight and an unguarded exit. Too good to be true.

"Wait here," one of the Jaffa said. Jack thought it was Jarron, but the muffling quality of the helmets made it hard to tell. A few moments later he returned. "No sign of any guard," he reported, returning to where the other two Jaffa stood.

"Good enough for government work," Jack said, then nodded to the Jaffa. All five of them headed for the exit then, just a prisoner and his escort heading for the Stargate, nothing out of the ordinary.

\-----------------------

There was an anxious wait as Daniel watched Jack and the Jaffa confer for a moment, one of the Jaffa standing guard over the doorway that led into the small temple where the Stargate stood. At the other end, facing the Stargate itself, was a large inscription on the wall - from where he stood, in the dim light coming from outside as there were no lamps lit, it looked like the usual scene of pharaoh smiting his enemies while the gods looked on.

"Let's go," Jack said, turning from the DHD. He'd dropped the helmet again, to Daniel's relief - even though he knew it was Jack inside, it was still a little unsettling to be speaking to the rams head of its closed form.

One of the Jaffa was dialing the gate; the second still kept watch and the third had crossed to look at the inscription Daniel had been studying. His own helmet was open too, the tattoo on his forehead confirming that the helmets were indeed their own - it carried the mark of Khnum, one of the creator gods. Even as the last chevron locked, the event horizon formed and the Stargate blossomed into life, he raised his staff weapon and blasted the inscription into pieces.

"No!" Daniel yelled, a little too late to prevent the destruction.

"Come on." Jack was there, pulling at his sleeve, half-dragging him from where Daniel stood by the DHD so that he stumbled across the stone flags between there and the Stargate itself.

"Jack!" Daniel said, trying to struggle free from Jack's grasp but failing. "Did you see...?"

The question, and its answer, was both lost as the two of them slid through into the wormhole's embrace, stumbling out together on a desert plain that stretched brown and level as far as the eye could see. Daniel took a deep breath, feeling the heated air hit his face even as he breathed it in like a homecoming.

"This is just a pit stop," Jack said, as he took a couple of steps to the side of the Stargate. Daniel followed him, watching the chevrons light on this Stargate, another unfamiliar combination.

"He destroyed that inscription." Jack nodded. "Why, Jack? What the hell is going on?" The third chevron lit, then the fourth. "And how are we going to get home?"

Jack didn't answer, just stood watching the lights flick on as each chevron locked, then headed into the rippling blue of the newly-formed Stargate, the Jaffa following behind. Daniel took a last deep breath of dry desert air and then followed in their wake.

The Jaffa were waiting for him on the other side, all four of them with their helmets closed so Daniel couldn't tell which one of the impassive metal rams heads was Jack.

"Welcome to Arannis," one of them said, the one who'd spoken before, then he turned and led the way into the nearby trees. Two of the Jaffa followed him.

"Let's get this over with," the third Jaffa said, in Jack's voice, gesturing for Daniel to follow the path the Jaffa had taken. "Time for explanations later."

That was probably the best deal he was going to get, Daniel realized, so he headed into the trees, Jack following behind him.

\-----------------------

Well, wasn't this par for the course? Daniel had gone from delighted he was alive to pissed at not getting an explanation from him in a matter of minutes. At least this way Jack could be sure all of this was real, not just some bizarre hallucination.

The line of Daniel's back as he stalked away into the forest told Jack everything he needed to know about how his friend was feeling right now.

He wasn't sure he could explain what Jarron and the others had done, even though they'd tried to explain it to Jack already. It was symbolic, they said, a rejection of the life of slavery they no longer believed in - no loyal Jaffa would destroy the representations of a Goa'uld that way, unless it was destroyed as part of the wholesale demolition of a building or destruction of a mothership. It was the Jaffa version of graffiti, or something.

Daniel, of course, would see it differently. He'd consider it desecration, though for different reasons than the message these Jaffa wanted it to send. Because he valued everything, every form of communication; even the propaganda scratchings of the wannabe evil overlords of the universe was important to him.

Still, Jarron could try and explain it all to Daniel when they reached somewhere safe. Jack wished him the best of luck, because everything he could tell about Daniel right now told Jack that he wouldn't be easy to convince.

He hadn't been able to come up with an answer for the other question Daniel had asked either; how were they going to get home? So far he hadn't pushed for an answer and while this trek down to the settlement where Jarron lived was buying him time to think, Jack knew Daniel wouldn't be put off forever.

And the truth was, he had no idea how they were going to get home. Even the planets he knew were safe, of the few they'd visited so far that weren't hotbeds of Goa'uld activity, were hardly a walk in the park. They needed a GDO for one thing, but the chances of getting hold of one were currently slim to none, even if they went somewhere like the Land of Light. As far as Jack could reckon, the people there weren't due another visit from the SGC for months, but that still might be their best bet.

It was different now there were two of them to consider. It wasn't the fact that Daniel wasn't a soldier that made the difference, but when Jack had been alone, he didn't worry about his own well-being compared to how much havoc he could wreak among the Goa'uld while he was trying to get home.

Now he had Daniel with him, his responsibility once more, he had a reason to be more cautious - after all, he had to value Daniel's life highly even if he didn't always value his own. Certainly his days of running wild with the Jaffa were well and truly over. Had been from the moment he'd found that it was Daniel who was being held captive, if truth were told.

Would it have been the same if it had been one of the others? Probably, though Jack couldn't be sure what his response would have been if it had been Teal'c in that cell instead - or what Teal'c's reaction would have been, despite his loyalty to the SGC, to finding that there were other Jaffa in revolt as well as the ones he already knew about. There was a good chance it would have been Jack arguing caution, while Teal'c was advocating throwing in their lot with Jarron and his gang.

As for anyone else from the SGC, well they were under oath and while the first duty of a prisoner was to escape, they also had a responsibility to carry on the fight one way or another on their way home.

Daniel was worth more to the SGC back on Earth, though, than he was as part of an off world resistance movement. Jack was certain Daniel wouldn't be all that easily persuaded he ought to be considered in a different light to everyone else, not with the fight he'd put up to get onto an SG team in the first place, but it was a plain fact. Anyone could blow shit up, given the right equipment and opportunity, but some talents were much less common.

\-----------------------

Daniel was prepared to admit to himself, if not to Jack, that maybe he'd overreacted a little at what the Jaffa had done. It could just as easily have been a delayed reaction from being held prisoner, all that uncertainty about his own future translating into fury at the sight of what he could only think of as wanton vandalism. He'd listen to what they had to say, but there was no guarantee he'd be convinced by it.

Jack was a steady, reassuring presence on the path behind him, and Daniel couldn't help feeling comforted by the realization that he was no longer alone. That had been the worst thing about being captured by the Jaffa till then, that he was cut off from anyone who might give a damn about him, certain that the rest of his team were even now considering whether he could be rescued and reluctantly realizing their chances were minimal. They'd find it hard to take, on the heels of losing Jack, that they'd lost someone else.

Daniel hoped, despite his lack of an answer to the question, that Jack really did have an idea how they were going to get home. It had taken a while before Daniel had allowed himself to think of the SGC as anything more than a place he happened to be for the purpose of rescuing Sha're, but he'd become so accustomed to the place by now that he thought of it almost fondly.

The sun was setting, and as the light faded Daniel found he had to concentrate more on where he walked, the occasional stumble threatening to send him pitching headlong down the sloping path.

"It is not far," the Jaffa walking directly in front of him said, without turning his head. Daniel wasn't sure how he'd known to speak, except that he was certain he was making enough noise that the Jaffa couldn't have missed that he found the going almost treacherous underfoot.

Below them now, lay a small settlement. Ahead the path branched off and when they reached that point, Daniel found that he was being led round the outskirts of the town, following a loop to the right rather than heading into the town itself. After a few minutes more, they slipped quietly between two houses and into a dark street, then they were hustled inside a particular house and the door closed behind them. It was only when they were inside that the Jaffa dropped their helmets once more and Daniel could see who was who.

"I am Jarron," one of them said, separating himself from the other two Jaffa. "You are welcome here, both as a friend of O'Neill and as a warrior in the fight against the Goa'uld."

Jarron didn't look that certain as he spoke, his eyes giving him away more than he probably knew, but Daniel had become used to people judging him by his appearance since he joined the SGC. Particularly the Jaffa, who seemed to prize sheer size over intellect, though Daniel could see why that was - the Goa'uld didn't have much use for anyone serving them who might start to wonder why things were as they were. That was a hard habit to break.

"Thank you," Daniel said. Jarron looked at him, as if expecting something more of a response from him, but nothing came to mind.

"What's a guy got to do to get some food around here?" Jack asked, as the silence in the house stretched awkwardly.

That seemed to do the trick, as Jarron then looked at Jack for a long moment before he nodded curtly. He turned on his heel and disappeared into the other room, the two Jaffa following meekly behind him, leaving Jack and Daniel alone again for the first time since the rescue.

"Sit down before you fall down, Daniel," Jack said, as he started to try and get himself out of the Jaffa gear, pulling the helmet and its associated material off his shoulders and over his head with a visible effort. Daniel sat down on the nearest bench, feeling weariness rest on his own shoulders like a heavy blanket. "That's better," Jack continued, sinking to the other bench and stretching.

It was odd, Daniel thought, how comfortable the silence between the two of them was, now the Jaffa weren't there. Comfortable and familiar, like putting on an old pair of shoes that fitted just right.

"I still can't believe..." Daniel began, then stopped. What he was about to say seemed so stupid.

"That I'm alive?" Jack said, with a grin. "It was a surprise to me too."

Jack twisted his neck then, with a visible crack that made Daniel wince and Jack's grin widen.

"How did you get here, Jack?" he asked. "I mean, what happened on P3X-866?"

Jack's grin faded a little at the question, even though he had to have known it was coming at some point.

"I made a new friend," Jack replied. "Well, kind of. He dug around a bit in my brain because he wanted something from me, and when I finally convinced him we had a common enemy, he gave me some nifty gadgets and let me go."

There was movement in the adjacent room and Daniel let himself be distracted by wondering what was going on in there. Whatever it was, the smells that drifted through to where he and Jack were sitting were enough to remind Daniel it had been a long time since he'd last ate. Those thoughts were better than recalling what it had been like to think they'd left Jack behind, wreathed in flames and screaming for help. Which they had, after all.

"It never happened," Jack said, his voice breaking easily through into Daniel's thoughts, as if he could read his mind and tell just what it was Daniel was remembering. "Scaly faked it all, Daniel, made you think I died so you'd leave."

It took a moment before Daniel could speak, the memories still had so strong a hold on him and his emotions, even if Jack was sitting here now, reassuring him they were an illusion. He clenched his fists as tightly as he could, the feeling of his fingernails digging into his palms an equal reassurance that this was real. Jack was here, really here, alive and well.

"He did a really good job," Daniel said.

Those words were as few as he could trust himself to say. Even then it felt as though he'd choked them out through a lump in his throat. Whatever else he might have said, or Jack could have replied, was lost as Jarron and the others returned, bearing trays of food.

\------------------------

Jarron had great timing. Jack knew Daniel would be embarrassed by his reaction, even if it was completely understandable - it wasn't every day someone came back from the dead, after all. Even when you were part of the SGC it took a little bit of getting used to. And Daniel prided himself on coping with whatever life threw at him, or at least putting up a good show of dealing with it and bouncing back. Good enough for the Jaffa to be going on with, that much was certain.

Once they'd helped themselves to food, Jarron had tried to explain what the Jaffa were doing and, as he'd predicted to himself, Daniel hadn't bought it. No matter what Jarron was selling, Daniel wasn't in the market to be convinced.

"Give it up, Jarron," Jack said, eventually, when he could tell that both of them were getting frustrated.

Jarron nodded curtly, turning his attention back to his food. Daniel looked thoughtful for a moment, as if he was going to continue the conversation anyway, and then copied the Jaffa.

"We'll be leaving soon," Jack continued. Daniel didn't look up, but pretended to be fascinated by the piece of bread he was pulling apart. "Not that we don't enjoy the company but we need to get going."

"Our blessings go with you, O'Neill." Jarron looked pensive. "Where will you go?"

Jack shook his head.

"Nope. It's better if you don't know," he said. "Just in case."

Jarron seemed to consider that for a moment, as if deciding if he should be offended by it, then just nodded curtly.

"As you say."

Later, when it was just him and Daniel, it took a while before Daniel asked him the same question.

"I thought we'd try the Land of Light on for size," Jack replied. "I'm sure they'll be glad to see you with your pants on for a change."

"That wasn't my fault, Jack," Daniel said, rising to the bait like Jack thought he would then looking thoughtful once he'd reacted as planned. "That's our best option, isn't it?" he continued, clearly not distracted from his purpose despite Jack's best efforts.

"Unless we want to do the bug on a windshield thing," Jack said. "Protocol says the SGC will have locked out your code once you were captured and mine is even more out of date; even if we had a GDO it would be just so much metal and plastic."

"Land of Light it is, then," Daniel said.

\------------------------

The Jaffa seemed genuinely sad to see them go, even though they weren't the most expressive people they'd ever met - Jarron clasped Jack's arm, nodding curtly at the thanks Jack was stumbling over till he just gave up. He'd thought about what happened next and, without a word, handed over the bag full of weapons Scaly had given to him. They needed them more than the geeks at Area 51 did, after all. In exchange, Jarron handed over a zat gun, his face still as solemn as ever.

The symbols Jack put into the DHD were unfamiliar and he would have asked about that, if Jack hadn't headed straight for the event horizon as soon as the rush of its formation had ebbed. He didn't seem in the mood to talk and Daniel found himself pausing at the brink of it and looking back at the Jaffa for a moment. Jarron nodded again and then the small group turned, as if reacting to one silent command, and headed back toward town.

"Bye then," Daniel said, then stepped into the wormhole's embrace.

Jack was waiting for him on the other side, on another nondescript forested planet that certainly wasn't the Land of Light.

"What kept you?" he asked. "Fond goodbyes from Jarron and the boys?"

"Where are we?" Daniel asked, noticing the way that the dark trees loomed overhead and not liking it one bit.

"Just changing wormholes," Jack said. "Jarron's boys had a list of uninhabited planets they used as staging posts." He'd pulled out the zat Jarron had given him and was peering toward the trees himself - maybe Jack wasn't all that convinced this was an uninhabited planet after all. "Dial it up, okay?"

Daniel found the sequence of symbols easily enough, watching each one light in turn as the chevrons forming the address for the Land of Light locked. Out of the corner of his eye, even as the wormhole formed, he saw Jack moving toward where he stood, backing toward him like there was something out there he didn't like the look of. It was a familiar movement, so familiar that Daniel almost looked around for Sam and Teal'c before he remembered they were a long way from Colorado.

"Let's go, Daniel," Jack said.

He didn't look round, didn't take his eyes off the darkness beneath the trees, or check that Daniel had done as he was told. He didn't need to, since Daniel was used to this by now, relying on Jack's instincts as comfortably as his own.

This time, he hesitated on the edge of the wormhole again, but for a different reason - it was one thing to follow Jack, knowing he'd be there on the other side, but Daniel was damned if he was going to let Jack follow him, if there was the slightest possibility Jack might not be coming along after him.

"Come on, Jack," he said. Daniel was sure the anxiety he felt translated into his voice, and that certainty was underlined when Jack glanced round, just for a moment. "Let's go. Now."

He waited till he was sure Jack was coming, till Jack was close enough for Daniel to get hold of the loose robe he still wore, fingers twining in the material with enough of a grip that he was certain to follow, then stepped back into the event horizon.

This time, the place they arrived was familiar. Daniel stumbled down the small dais on which the Stargate stood, his grip on Jack's robe all that stopped him falling down onto his face before he reached the uneven ground. This place was dark too and heavily forested, like the planet they'd just left, but there was nothing ominous about it - it was familiar, almost welcoming in comparison.

"Daniel." Jack sounded amused, even though Daniel couldn't see his face in the gloom that surrounded them now the event horizon had winked out of existence. "You can let go now."

"Now what?" Daniel asked, as he looked around. The planet looked the same as he remembered it; hard to tell if it was midday or the middle of the night. "We'll never find our way to where Tuplo's people live in this darkness."

"Now we wait," Jack said, sitting down on the small dais where the Stargate sat and resting his weapon across his knees. In the semi-darkness, Jack was a blurred shape a little lighter than the surrounding shapes if Daniel went too far. "There's a proximity detector," he continued. "Set to go off if the Stargate activates, letting the people know they've got visitors."

Daniel crossed to where Jack sat. Now he was closer he could see that Jack was sitting back, leaning against the Stargate. Daniel took a seat beside him, resting his arms on his knees - not quite as comfortable as Jack's position but he wasn't prepared to put the width of the Stargate between them, considering they wouldn't be able to see one another if he did.

"Was it my imagination," Daniel began, "or was that last planet kind of creepy?"

Jack laughed and Daniel felt himself relax a little. He hadn't heard that sound in longer than he cared to think about, had never expected to hear it again. It sounded a little different than he remembered, a little rougher round the edges, but that was okay. It was all going to be okay now.

\------------------------

'Creepy' wasn't the way he'd have phrased it, but Jack couldn't help admitting Daniel was right. Jack had been certain something was watching them from the trees on that last pit stop they'd made - if he was a cartoon superhero, his spidey sense would have been tingling. He'd contented himself with keeping the zat to hand and pointed away from himself and Daniel, even if he couldn't be sure where the danger was coming from.

If he wasn't getting paranoid in his old age, which was always a possibility until Daniel told him he'd felt it too.

He heard the villagers before he saw them, even though the powerful flashlights they carried gave their location away from further than they probably realized. Jack got up from where he was sitting anyway, conscious that Daniel followed suit, waiting politely for their visitors to arrive.

"Colonel O'Neill!"

"Councilor Tuplo," Jack said. That was unexpected, and at least this way they didn't have to introduce themselves. "I know we didn't call ahead but we're hoping we can stay a while..."

"And Doctor Jackson," Tuplo said, bowing toward Daniel, who looked embarrassed at the gesture. "You are always welcome, both of you, to all we have."

"You're very kind, Councilor," Daniel said. "We could be with you a while, unless you're expecting someone from the SGC?" He couldn't hide how he felt, no matter how much of a diplomat Daniel might want to be, and Tuplo frowned at the question.

"A month, perhaps," he said, after clearly giving Daniel's question some thought. "Maybe less, if the gods favor us."

"Of course," Daniel replied, more diplomatic now.

"In the meantime," Tuplo said, "you must accept our hospitality." He leaned toward Daniel, his voice lowering significantly, though it was clear everyone around them could still hear what he said. "My daughter, Melosha..." he began.

"Well, I don't know about you, Daniel," Jack said, coming over to where Tuplo stood and slapping him on the back, "but I could kill for some ribs." It was a little drastic and hardly what the protocol books called for, but Daniel was already getting that hunted expression on his face.

"Ribs?" Tuplo asked, his expression puzzled.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw Daniel relax a little at his intervention - that was one minor crisis avoided, at least, though Tuplo was likely to try a little matchmaking again given half a chance.

"Or whatever you've got," Jack continued. "Being a fugitive helps work up an appetite."

"Fugitive?" Tuplo asked, and then he nodded to the surrounding villagers. The first of them led the way into the trees. "You must tell me more, colonel."

\-------------------------

Though Jack seemed at ease as he entertained Tuplo and the others with stories of his time with the Jaffa, there was an undercurrent to his words that Daniel was certain he alone picked up. He'd known Jack O'Neill long enough, it seemed, to be able to tell when he was talking just for the sake of noise rather than because he had something to say. Or, in this case, to avoid talking about the things he didn't want to touch upon.

Jack talked a lot about the missions with Jarron and the other Jaffa, the time spent pretending to be one of Khnum's guards to infiltrate an installation, but nothing of the time before that. And certainly nothing of the period in which everyone had believed him dead or the circumstances surrounding how the rest of his team had, unwittingly or otherwise, left him behind. It was as if Jack had gone straight from the SGC to the Jaffa, with nothing in between - a hollow nothing that drew Daniel's attention to it because Jack didn't talk about it at all.

It was only when Tuplo had insisted they were his honored guests, and had ordered them led to an unexpectedly austere dormitory room filled with unoccupied beds, that Daniel found himself alone with Jack once more.

"What happened after you escaped?" he asked, watching Jack carefully for any reaction to his question.

They'd chosen the beds furthest from the door, without any kind of discussion about it, though the expression on Jack's face made Daniel wonder now whether he regretted the choice and wished he were further from where Daniel was planning to sleep. Jack sat down on the bed and concentrated on untying his bootlaces.

"Escaped?" Jack didn't look up, but there was no mistaking the delaying tactic. Buying time to figure out what to say; something close enough to the truth to be accepted but not so close it would hurt to say. "I told you, Scaly let me go."

"Semantics," Daniel said. "What happened before you met Jarron, Jack?"

Jack had worked one boot off, dropping it beside the bed, and was now ostensibly concentrating on untying the other one. He didn't answer, didn't even look up.

"You didn't say anything about it," Daniel continued, as he lay back on his own bed. He didn't look at Jack, concentrating instead on the beam of wood that dissected the ceiling, willing himself to keep his gaze fixed on that. "There has to be a reason for that..."

"And what about you?" Jack asked, suddenly. Daniel didn't need to look round to know Jack was looking at him now. "What _was_ it like when you all thought I was dead?"

Daniel closed his eyes, wishing he could clap his hands over his ears and stop the words as easily. But that would be childish, and besides he knew it wouldn't work. He'd asked for this, anyway, wanting to know the things Jack couldn't bring himself to tell anyone else - he didn't get to choose now whether he liked the result or not.

"Did you have nightmares about leaving me behind?" Jack demanded. "I remember the memorial service for Kawalsky, was there one for me as well?"

Jack was standing over him now - Daniel didn't need to open his eyes to know that and he couldn't bring himself to do so anyway. He didn't want to see the expression he knew would be on Jack's face, the expression his question had put there.

"Tell me all about it, Daniel," Jack continued. "You must have had _much_ better things to say about me than we did about him, didn't you?"

There was no good answer to that. Daniel wasn't sure what Jack wanted to hear and, as the silent moments stretched between them, it became more and more difficult to find an answer of any kind. Jack had moved out of the light, no longer looming over him, and Daniel opened his eyes, turned his head cautiously.

Jack was sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. Daniel had thought, when he first saw him dressed as a Jaffa, that Jack looked thin - worn thin, frayed at the edges.

"I'm sorry," he said, though there was always something meaningless about those words, they were so easily said. "You know why..." Why I had to ask, why I needed to know, needed you to tell me, needed you to tell _someone_. Jack nodded, not looking up.

"I'm tired, Daniel," he said, his voice as low and quiet as the words it spoke. "Tired of being on the run, always wondering where my next meal was coming from, where I'd sleep that night, if the next time I stepped through the Stargate would be my last."

That was all he'd wanted, Daniel realized. Those words, that vague outline, was enough to tell him what he needed to know. That this was still Jack, that whatever he'd gone through hadn't changed who he was. Who they were. His own experience had been nothing compared to this - a couple of hours in a cell, then a few terrifying moments when he'd thought the Jaffa had come to take him to torture or execution or worse.

"It'll all be over soon," Daniel said. The words came unexpectedly easy now because he knew they were true. It could take days, or weeks, but the SGC would send a team to check up on the people here and then they'd go home. "Why don't you get some sleep?"

Daniel studied the ceiling again for a moment, then closed his eyes. There was no sound from Jack - the other bed wasn't even close enough for him to hear Jack breathing - till Daniel heard Jack move, imagined that it was Jack lying down, hoped it was.

\------------------------

He'd had an idea how he looked, from Daniel's reaction to him, but Jack still wasn't quite prepared for the face he saw in the mirror the following morning. He looked exhausted, the bags under his eyes testament to too many restless nights, too many places where he couldn't sleep with any feeling of safety. Sleep had been hard to come by when he'd been on the run - even when he was with Jarron and his people, Jack knew he'd hardly slept well.

By the time he got back into the room where they'd slept, feeling a hell of a lot better for the chance to wash, Daniel was just starting to stir.

"Rise and shine," Jack said, kicking the leg of the bed.

Daniel's response was muffled but the tone was clear enough. Jack kicked the bed again, and this time Daniel flopped over onto his back, eyes open just a crack.

"Is it morning already?" Daniel asked.

"I think so," Jack replied. "Hard to tell from in here." He sat down on his bed and laced up his boots.

Daniel didn't move, though his eyes opened a little wider, then he rolled onto his side, facing Jack.

"Jack, about last night..." he began.

Jack held up his hand, the gesture unexpectedly enough to stop Daniel in his tracks. He didn't need an apology; an apology would mean he'd have to apologize as well, because Daniel had been right. He'd been perceptive enough to see the holes in the story Jack had spun for Tuplo and the others.

Jack knew he hadn't wanted to talk about what had happened, still didn't want to and possibly never would. If he was ever going to talk about it, then it might as well be Daniel that heard it, not some shrink that Hammond was going to force him to open up to, whether he liked it or not. It certainly wasn't going to be a bunch of folks he'd only met once, regardless of how much they were relying on their hospitality.

"Nothing to talk about," Jack said, returning his attention to his bootlaces.

He half-expected Daniel to try anyway, but after a couple of silent moments had passed Jack was certain he'd got his reprieve. For now, anyway.

It had been a while since he'd lost his temper with Daniel that way, no matter what the provocation, but that didn't mean Jack felt any better about it. He could tell himself that Daniel was asking for it, that he'd goaded Jack when he should have known better, known to leave well enough alone. And sometimes he'd even believe it.

Jack didn't want to think about what Daniel and the others had gone through, though he knew exactly what they'd experienced. Knew it a little too well, from his own private hell at times in the past - losing Charlie, losing men under his command, even losing Daniel once. None of it ever got any easier. Hell, Jack hoped it never would. The day he could take all that shit in his stride was the day he agreed to ride a desk for the foreseeable future, because he'd be too dangerous to be leading men and women into the field.

"Let's go find some breakfast," Jack said, getting to his feet.

Daniel was fully dressed apart from his boots; like Jack, he'd pretty much fallen into bed when they'd had the chance. He just sat up, shoved his feet into his boots and then got up from the bed. He followed after Jack, not saying anything, and Jack suspected he was still not quite awake anyway.

\---------------------

Daniel knew he was probably still half-asleep as he followed Jack down the corridor in search of food, asleep enough to not worry about whether Jack knew where he was going, or to even care that much. After a few minutes, though, Jack demonstrated a better memory - he'd found where they'd eaten the previous night, navigating the path between there and the room in which they'd slept with ease - it was more than Daniel was sure he could have managed.

There was food waiting for them too, the strong flavors helping to rouse Daniel completely till he could fully appreciate what he was eating. This planet was likely to be their home for a little while, it seemed, and while the people of the Land of Light were not shirking in terms of hospitality, they were unlikely to have time to entertain their latest visitors.

That was one reason why, once he'd thought about it a little, Daniel hadn't pushed when Jack didn't want him to apologize. They needed to find some kind of equilibrium between themselves, for however long they were here - Jack needed to adjust to no longer being a fugitive, while Daniel was certain he'd appreciate the chance to get his head round the fact his friend was alive. That they were both alive. He was still finding both things a little hard to grasp, even though he'd willingly followed Jack without another thought, first out of Khnum's palace and then from Jarron's world to here.

"Last night, Tuplo said it could be up to a month before someone from the SGC comes here," Daniel said, as much for something to say as to remind himself of the previous night's discussion. The parts of it he wanted to remember, that is. "What are we going to do?"

He could imagine the pile of stuff in his office at the SGC, the work he could be getting on with if he was stuck there for a month, but what was there for him here?

If anything, the way that Tuplo had expected him to sit next to Melosha last night meant that Daniel was certain he'd be spending as much of that month avoiding awkward encounters with her as he would anything else. While Jack looked like he could use the rest, not to mention the benefits of regular meals, Daniel was sure he didn't need either rest or food to anything like the same extent. In fact, the idea of time to think wasn't particularly appealing right now, not if the thoughts currently whirling round his head were anything to go by.

"It could be just a couple of days, Daniel," Jack replied. "I don't know about you, but I could do with a break."

There was a limit to how selfish he could be, even if Daniel was almost certain he'd go crazy if he didn't have something to occupy himself. Jack needed this, had even admitted he did - that was something unusual - so he'd go along with what Jack wanted. It was the least Daniel could do. After all, without Jack, he'd probably still be in a cell on Khnum's world, if he was lucky.

Then the door opened and when Daniel looked round Melosha was there, her dimpled smile telling Daniel just how much trouble he was in. He'd thought he'd been sending out the right signals last night- and considering what had happened last time they'd met, he couldn't see how she could possibly look at him without wincing - yet there she was.

"My father asks that I show you whatever you wish to see," she said.

"That's very kind," Daniel said, trying to smile back at her but certain he hadn't managed, since Melosha's smile had faded a little as he'd spoken.

\-----------------

There was little enough to see, even with such a charming guide; even so, Jack was starting to get antsy with Melosha making cow eyes at Daniel. She really ought to know better - not only was the guy married, he was giving her nothing to work with, no matter how hard she tried. In the end, she'd made an excuse and left the two of them by the side of a small lake.

"That was... awkward," Daniel said, sitting down on the largest of a group of rocks. He watched Melosha disappear round the corner of the path that led back to the main buildings, then looked out over the lake instead.

"You could have just told her you're married," Jack pointed out. He was at the edge of the lake, his booted toes just in the water, watching it ripple round his feet. "Would have solved everything."

"She'd have been embarrassed, Jack." Out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw Daniel shift, looking for a more comfortable position on his chosen rock. "I think she's had enough reasons to be self-conscious around me already, don't you?"

Jack shrugged, looked down. He found himself twisting the toe of his boot into the soft mud, watching it dissolve into the water, particles drifting away. For a moment he considered pulling off his boots and socks, thinking what the cool mud would feel like between his toes - last time he'd done that... Last time he'd done that had been with Charlie, at the lake the summer before he'd died.

He was more tired than he'd thought, if his mind could be that treacherous without him realizing it much earlier on. He didn't like being ambushed that way.

"If you're waiting for me to tell you everything, Daniel," Jack said, "it could take a while."

Daniel didn't reply. Jack looked round, found that Daniel was now lying on his back, sprawled out on the flat surface of a lower shelf of stone, arms behind his head.

"We've got nothing but time, remember?" Daniel asked.

He was staring at the sky, and Jack studied him for a moment. Daniel didn't look as tired as Jack did, or even as Jack felt, but there was something about him, about his response to the situation that wasn't quite right.

"I wanted to ask you something..." Daniel continued. "When I was in Khnum's palace." He paused, as if searching for the right words, something Jack just didn't associate with Daniel - he was rarely lost for words, no matter what the situation. "For the first time," he said, "I was alone, as far as I knew. Completely alone, on another planet, surrounded by people who wouldn't care if I lived or died."

Jack looked out over the lake again, wondering how cold it was. It looked cold, like it came down straight from the mountains with barely enough of a temperature change to be liquid not ice.

"It could end like that, couldn't it?" Daniel asked. Jack didn't reply, though he was sure Daniel knew he was listening. "A cell, a staff weapon blast... then nothing. No sarcophagus, no coming back, just everything over, forever."

"Sure, it could."

Jack bent and picked up a stone, tossing it from hand to hand for a moment before he skimmed it across the still surface of the lake with a practiced hand. He watched it rise and fall, arcing three times before it sank.

"What choice do we have, Daniel?" Jack continued, still looking out over the water, the surface once again undisturbed. "Carry on or curl up and die, that's it. And I don't much like giving up."

\-----------------------

The warm sun had sent Daniel to sleep, and he'd drifted off with Jack's words still running round in his head. When he woke, he was disoriented for a moment, wondering just why his bed was so hard, before he realized he was still down by the lake. The sun hadn't moved far, so he hadn't been asleep for long; long enough that Jack wasn't standing by the edge of the water any more, but had stretched out on the nearby grass.

He hadn't intended to tell Jack how he'd felt, the few words he'd spoken giving anyone who knew him a chance to see what had motivated them - any other time he'd been a prisoner, it had been different, because he hadn't ever felt that alone. And then Jack had arrived, just as Daniel was starting to realize how serious the situation was, his timing as impeccable as if it had been planned that way.

How long could they stay that lucky, though? Daniel wasn't nae enough to think they could always be that fortunate, that something would happen to keep them all safe and rescue them from the brink of disaster. He'd already died once, after all, so if anyone knew the realities of what they were doing it was Daniel Jackson.

But Jack had been right. What choice did they have? Sha're was still out there, Skaara too. And the Goa'uld weren't going to roll over and play dead, not without some significant assistance - while Daniel had no intention of helping the SGC wage a war, he couldn't stand on his principles when so much was at stake.

Daniel closed his eyes again, enjoying the warmth of the sunlight against his face. In that cell, the reality of what might face him had only just begun to sink in when Jack arrived, but he'd taken a good look at one possible future. A very short and painful future, if their other experience of the Goa'uld was anything to go by. And while he wouldn't choose that end, would do whatever he needed to in order to avoid it, Daniel was also certain of one thing - if that was the price he needed to pay for Sha're and Skaara, or indeed for anyone he considered a friend, he'd pay it without a second thought.

"Dr Jackson!" Daniel jerked awake, his name being called bringing him back from the brink of sleep. "Dr Jackson!"

Daniel sat up. A glance across at where Jack lay told him that the other man was still asleep. He could see Melosha now, running down the trail towards the lake, and he hastily got up from where he was sitting, managing to intercept her before she was close enough to wake Jack.

"What is it?" he asked. She was smiling, at least, so it couldn't be anything bad.

"The Stargate, Dr Jackson," she said. "Someone from the SGC has just come through." Melosha took his hand, clutching it between hers. "You're going home," she said, looking over his shoulder. Daniel turned, and saw Jack walking toward where they both stood, his grin an unexpected echo of the joy on Melosha's face.

"Let's go surprise everyone, Daniel."


End file.
